


Broken

by PhoenixRising360



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 09:12:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15021389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixRising360/pseuds/PhoenixRising360
Summary: Tim is devastated, but a true friend unexpectedly steps up in his time of need. - Inspired by and written for Enthusiastic Fish for NFA White Elephant Exchange 2018.





	1. Chapter 1

Tim McGee sat beside Delilah's hospital bed. She was sleeping semi-peacefully, the pain medication helped her sleep, and Tim would reluctantly admit he was grateful. He could hardly bear to look at her. He didn't even try to look at himself in the mirror. He knew she was going to be angry at him. He was angry at himself, but despite that, or maybe even because of that, he was still too cowardly to visit her for long.

Coward. His face burned with renewed shame as the last few days played over and over in his mind like a really bad B movie that Tony would probably laugh his head off at. Only this wasn't a bad B movie and it seemed like it was going to get much worse before it got better.

Paralysis.

Permanent.

Wheelchair bound.

Permanent.

Paralysis.

Tim couldn't stop the whole-body shudder that left him with cold chills.

Delilah was never going to walk again.

He wasn't there with her when she was told the news.

He should've been there.

Fresh, hot tears burned his eyes. He just couldn't. He knew he should, but he couldn't make himself go when he should've. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't face her thinking the thoughts he was thinking, knowing she'd read it on his face. It wasn't like he could lie to her. He was a terrible liar on his best day, but he didn't want her to know what he was thinking, so he tucked his tail between his legs and ran away.

He still wasn't ready to face her. Her parents were annoyed with him, her father already let him have it with both barrels, and he had stoically stood there and took it, knowing he was right and feeling the full brunt of disappointment he felt that his daughter's boyfriend wasn't there.

Still, that was nothing compared to what Delilah would say. That is, if she didn't kick him out the moment she saw him.

He took a deep breath, trying to hold it together as he watched her sleep. She was far too pale, had little cuts on her skin. She wasn't in pain from the waist down anymore but the rest of her body was sore, and she had little cuts all over, thankfully most superficial. Her lower back had taken the worst, paralyzing her.

He should've been there.

For the hundredth time, he wondered if she would forgive him for not being there. He wondered if he'd ever forgive himself. He could practically hear his father yell at him to man up, the exasperation and disappointment dripping from his voice equally. He'd always been a disappointment to his father. He hadn't even told anyone in his family about Delilah yet. He couldn't face that either.

He was such a coward.

He hoped against hope that the doctors had just made a mistake and they'd change their mind and say, "Oops, she's going to walk after all," but the numerous imaging tests they'd done confirmed beyond a doubt that no, there was no oops. Delilah was paralyzed from the waist down and nothing would change that.

A tear slipped down his cheek despite trying not to. He was glad he was here alone except for Delilah. He'd since sent Delilah's parents home to rest and promised them he'd sit with her until the nurses kicked him out, which probably wouldn't be much longer.

He wished there was someone he could talk to about all this. Everything felt up in the air and he couldn't grasp at anything solid. He felt adrift, floating along with no direction. Delilah was in no shape for talking. When she was awake, she cried a lot. The scolding he received from Mrs. Fielding had driven that point home. Even now, he could see she'd been crying earlier. Her tears had dried, but her skin was a little blotchy and dry where she'd wiped her own tears away only to have more replace them.

He should've been here.

He closed his eyes against the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. He had no idea how he was going to make this right or if he even could. Either way, he couldn't do it tonight. Visiting hours were over, and he would have to leave. He wouldn't wake Delilah for anything now that she was asleep. She needed rest and it appeared she was sleeping deeply, and he was glad. She needed it.

He heard someone in the doorway and figured the nurse was here to kick him out. He quickly swiped at his own tear as he stood up and turned to let the nurse know he was leaving. He blinked in surprise when he saw who it was.


	2. Chapter 2

"Ziva?" Tim kept his voice low.

Ziva looked uncertain, but she tentatively stepped in the room and let her gaze flit from Tim to Delilah and back again. She nodded in acknowledgement of his greeting. "I know it is late but I thought you would be here."

Tim looked at his watch and a new twinge of guilt stabbed him. Visiting hours had ended 15 minutes ago. He was surprised a nurse hadn't been by.

"Yeah, I...I should go. But...what are you doing here?"

"How is she?" she asked softly, her gaze softening as it flitted back to Delilah.

Tim sighed. "She's on pain meds, they knock her out."

Ziva nodded. "The pain is severe?"

"It's getting better but she still needs it for sleep."

"Understandable."

"Let me just say goodbye," Tim walked over to the bed, leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead. She didn't stir. "Good night, Delilah. I'll be back tomorrow," he whispered.

Tim straightened, grabbed his jacket and he and Ziva exited the room together just as the nurse stopped in.

"We're just leaving," Tim said before she could speak. "She's resting."

"Good. She had a bad day," the nurse said, not unkindly. "Hopefully a good night sleep will help."

Tim nodded and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

He and Ziva walked silently and didn't speak again until they were outside. "We missed you at work today," Ziva said as they walked down the sidewalk.

Tim sighed. "Thanks."

"I thought Tony was going to leap out of his shirt. He kept throwing paper balls at your desk but you weren't there."

He was too distraught to correct her idiom. Somehow though, the thought of Tony throwing paper balls at his desk even though he wasn't there made him feel slightly better. 

"Have you eaten?" Ziva asked.

Tim shrugged. "I ate lunch earlier."

"Are you okay to drive?"

"Yeah."

"Then come to my apartment. I will fix you something to eat."

"Ziva, it's been a long day."

"And it is going to be a long night. You are not sleeping, and you need to eat."

He nodded, but didn't comment.

Ziva looked at him like he was a puzzle she couldn't quite figure out. "Do you remember the way?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"You will show up?"

"Yeah, Ziva."

"Good. I will leave my paperclips alone then...for now." She smiled a little to let him know she was teasing, but he didn't doubt for a moment that she would have them close to hand. No matter how much he liked her, he could never quite forget she was a trained assassin. Still, maybe he could talk to her. They'd confided in each other before. Not often, but sometimes.

He watched as she tore out of the hospital parking like a racecar driver and he didn't even try to keep up, following at a much more sedate pace.


	3. Chapter 3

When he arrived at her apartment, she let him in and immediately locked the door and returned to the kitchen. He could smell something delicious, and his stomach growled loudly at him, reminding him that he hadn't eaten much that day.

Ziva has a nice apartment, Tim thought, as he looked around. It was tastefully decorated, not overburdened with clutter, meant to be functional and comfortable. It was a living room one could relax in. He stepped in the kitchen and looked around. Ziva was stirring something in a skillet.

"Do you need help?"

"Could you get two plates from the cupboard and utensils, please?" She vaguely pointed at the cupboard and the drawer.

Tim did as he was asked and looked in the skillet. There were chunks of marinated chicken and vegetables, a simple stir-fry. He watched as she sprinkled black pepper over it and gave it another few stirs. It looked as good as it smelled.

"Sit down," she said nodding over at the table by the window. "This is almost ready."

She got out a bottle of white wine and took two glasses from the cupboard.

"No, thanks on the wine. I have to drive home."

"You will not be driving home."

"Huh?"

"You are exhausted. Once you have eaten, you will be too tired to drive home. You will stay here."

"Ziva, I don't have any clothes or anything…"

"It does not matter. You can go home and change before going back to the hospital tomorrow, yes?"

"Uh...yeah, I could."

"That is settled then." She poured the wine and set the glasses in front of them before serving up the food for both of them.

Ziva offered a blessing in Hebrew over their meal and while Tim didn't understand a word of it, the earnest sincerity he heard in Ziva's voice reminded him of its purpose. He should be grateful for what he had. He needed that reminder right now. He was grateful that Delilah was still alive. He knew he would feel much, much worse if she had died.

"Amen," he said sincerely when she finished the blessing. Ziva smiled.

They ate in companionable silence. Ziva's cooking, always delicious, tasted even better now that he was reminded to be grateful for small things, like good food. It helped that he was hungry anyway.

"This is so good. Thank you, Ziva."

Ziva looked pleased. "You are very welcome, Tim."

Once they finished eating, Tim volunteered to wash the dishes. Tim found that the simple chore calmed him a little, reminded him that life does indeed go on, even if it was just an ordinary part of life. He breathed deeply of the lightly scented dish soap Ziva had. In just a few minutes, everything was clean again and Tim once again felt grateful. He felt a little better since he'd eaten. Once he rinsed out the sink, Ziva stepped over with a kettle and he got out of her way as she filled it in and placed it on the stove.

"Why did you come to the hospital?" Tim asked as she adjusted the temperature of the burner.  
Ziva straightened and turned to face him "Last time I saw you, you were very upset. I thought you might need a friend."

Tim's shoulders sagged as he registered her words, emotion welling back up in him. How did she know?

"She could've died, Ziva."

"But she did not."

"She's paralyzed."

Ziva grimaced. "I know, but she is strong. She will adapt."

"I think she wishes she just died instead."

Ziva nodded. "She may feel that way now, but once she gets used to her wheelchair, she will be fine."

Tim looked over at Ziva, his face thoughtful. "You sound like you know what you're talking about."

Ziva smiled a little sadly. "I had a childhood friend who was injured during a raid. She also was paralyzed from the waist down. She adapted very quickly, though I think it is easier for children to do so than adults."

Tim nodded and swallowed hard.

"I was allowed to visit her when she was in the hospital recovering. She could not wait until she was well enough to have wheelchair races in the hallway."

Tim meant to laugh. He really did. He felt it bubble up inside him as he pictured two children having wheelchair races in a hallway, but when he opened his mouth, instead of a laugh, it broke. There was just too much pent-up emotion and the laugh he meant to have came out as a broken sob, incomplete but unmistakable as a sob.

In an instant, Ziva had her hand on his shoulder and that helped center him, focus him. One tear escaped, but he couldn't break down, not completely. It was there, just under the surface, but not here, not now. He didn't deserve to get to break down. He needed to talk to Delilah. He knew that, but he didn't know what he should say. He didn't know how to cope. He hated that she was paralyzed. It just felt like the end of everything. "If we could've warned her just a little sooner…"

"Hey," Ziva said softly. "It is not your fault. You tried to warn her as soon as we realized. We did our best, Tim. I know that is not enough right now, but it is true."

"What if she blames me?"

"Did her parents blame you?"

"N-no," he straightened and stepped back, putting more space between Ziva and himself. He wiped at his eyes and sniffled. "No, but they are...upset with me."

"Why?"

Tim sniffled again. "I wasn't there for her when they told her she couldn't walk again. I couldn't...bear it. I couldn't deal with it. I still can't. I don't want to deal with it…but I can't walk away."

Ziva was silent a moment as she processed this information. She stepped back a little and raised her hand to lift Tim's chin so he would look at her. "You are dealing with it, Tim. You were there at the hospital."

"I waited until she was asleep. I haven't been there all day. I couldn't...I sat in my apartment all day trying to…" His words got lost as another sob caught in his throat. He breathed deeply as he tried to get a grip

Ziva waited until he calmed a little and then spoke. "Tim, listen to me. She is devastated and so are you. Things will not be the same but that does not mean they cannot be good."

"She can't walk, Ziva. She can't do the things she used to do."

"Not everything, no, but she will still do a lot of the things she did before. She will just do them from a wheelchair. It hurts right now because she's in the hospital and everything is worse in a hospital but it will get better. You will see."

Ziva spoke with such confidence that Tim couldn't help but feel reassured. Maybe he was making it worse in his head than it really was, but he hated seeing Delilah lying in the hospital bed, hurt and grieving.

"It will not be easy," Ziva warned in a soft, almost gentle voice. "She will need you more than ever until she adapts, and that will take time. She has her parents, yes?"

Tim nodded. Delilah's parents were wonderfully supportive of her...and him.

"Good. She will need all of you more than ever as she figures out what she can and cannot do now. Just do not smother her. She has to learn to do things for herself though there are things she just will not be able to. Make sure she does what she can herself. That will help her feel independent and self-reliant. She will need to feel that as much as possible though at first she will need extra help."

Tim nodded. Ziva could always be counted on to see things in the most pragmatic terms possible. She was not always tactful, but she did see through the fog to get to the crux of the matter. Ziva was right. Delilah was fiercely independent. It was one of the things he loved about her. He could see how irritating it might be to have someone offer to do things he could do himself and Delilah would want to do for herself as much as possible. He'd have to work at not trying to do everything for her. He took a deep, steadying breath.

"You may not have been there for her when she was told about her paralysis, but you can be there for her now, yes?"

Tim nodded emphatically.

"Then be there when visiting hours start tomorrow. Let her rage at you if she needs to. Then, start dealing with it all together."

Tim nodded more tentatively this time.

"Tim?"

He looked up. Ziva was gazing at him thoughtfully. "Are you all right?"

"No, but I will be. Just never imagined anything like this."

"No one does. But she has you, and her parents and me, too."

Tim's eyes grew wide. "Yeah?"

"You are family and because you love her, so is she."

Tim's eyes watered anew but he managed his first genuine smile since Delilah got hurt. "Thanks, Z."

She nodded once in acknowledgement. "Now, you should have another glass of wine, and then get some sleep. The bed in the extra bedroom is made up."

Tim inhaled deeply and exhaled long and slow before speaking. "Thanks...for everything."

"That is what family does, yes?"

Tim nodded.

"I know that Tony wished there was something he could do to help."

"Really?"

"He likes Delilah, thinks she is good for you. I agree. I think Gibbs, too, wished to help though he did not admit it. I could see it in his eyes. They care about you, Tim. We all do."

Tim smiled again, feeling warm all over though that may have been the alcohol. "Thanks."

Tim allowed Ziva to pour him another glass of wine and they took their glasses to the living room. Tim settled on the sofa and Ziva in her chair. He drank slowly, allowing the sedative effect of the alcohol to relax him. Ziva turned the news on and he idly watched it with her, not paying close attention, just letting the anchor's voice wash over him.

"You should go to bed before you fall asleep right there," Ziva finally broke the companionable silence.

Tim jumped a little at her voice. "Yeah," he said wearily. "I'm really tired."

"Get some rest, Tim. You will need it." She directed him to her extra bedroom but he detoured to the bathroom before going to bed. He fell asleep almost as soon as he turned out the light and slept deeply all night.


	4. Chapter 4

A good night's sleep does wonders, Tim thought, as he rode the hospital's elevator up to Delilah's floor the next morning. He slept well, even if it was a strange bed, and Ziva had even made sure he ate breakfast before he left her apartment, concerned he hadn't eaten enough the day before. He'd been exhausted and heartsick last night but this morning as he showered, he’d thought about everything she said and realized it was exactly what he needed to hear. Today, he felt stronger emotionally, focused. He could do this. No, they could do this.

He inhaled deeply, shoring himself up for the upcoming conversation. His nostrils burned a little from the antiseptic smell of the hospital and he rubbed his nose, trying to dispel it. Visiting hours weren't due to start for another ten minutes, but he wanted to be here first thing.

As he neared her room, he was glad her parents weren't there yet. He wanted them to see that he was already there before they were. They needed to see that and more importantly, Delilah needed to see that.

There were hospital employees removing food trays from the rooms and he waited until the man left Delilah's room and wheeled the cart away before going in. She was taking a sip of orange juice when he walked in. He smiled when he saw her.

"Good morning."

"Tim, you're here." Her voice lacked its usual delight and even sounded surprised.

He walked up to her bed and reached his hand out to her. She hesitated before reaching out to him but he cupped her smaller hand warmly in his own. He looked her in the eyes and smiled slightly. "Yes, I am," he said solemnly. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her hand softly. "I'm here," he said again, holding her gaze.

Tears filled Delilah's eyes and one streamed down her face. "To stay?" she whispered, fear in her eyes.

Seeing her tear up made him tear up. "Yes," he said. "I'm here to stay." He leaned in and wiped a tear from her face. "I know you're upset with me and you have every right to be. I should've been here."

"Then why weren't you?" Her tone demanded an answer, but her voice quavered, like she was on the verge of tears again.

Tim swallowed hard and his eyes burned with unshed tears. "I didn't want you to see how upset I was. It felt like everything we dreamed about was out of reach. I felt hopeless and helpless. I didn't want you to see that. I didn't want you to feel hopeless because I did. I couldn't let you see that I felt like I couldn't handle it, that I couldn't be who you needed me to be."

Delilah looked at him curiously but guarded. "But now you can?"

Tim took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. Now, I can. I just needed to get my head on straight." Tim thought of Gibbs in that moment, how many times had the man barked at him and Tony to get their heads on straight. Tim smirked a little and shook his head at his own inside joke. He squeezed her hand a little. "I know this isn't going to be easy for either of us, but we'll deal with this...together. Okay?"

"Really?"

Tim nodded solemnly. "Really. Delilah, I love you and I don't expect you to believe me now, but I will show you."

Tears streamed down Delilah's face, but she still looked angry despite her tears. "I thought you weren't coming back. I thought you..."

"No. I was just trying to figure out how to cope without making you feel worse."

"I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me now that I’m…damaged." More tears streamed down Delilah’s face as she voiced her fear.

Tim let the shame he felt show in his face and a tear escaped from his left eye. "No. Not even close. Look, I'm not proud of this. I just...I couldn't face you feeling the way I did. I was afraid that would be worse than not being here. I just wanted to scream, shout, rage at the world and I couldn't pretend everything was going to be okay. I didn't think they ever would be. I’m sorry I made you feel worse but I believed then and I believe now that me being here would’ve made things worse.” Tim paused to breathe. “I worked through all that, and now I feel like I can do this...we can do this."

Delilah took a deep breath. "It really hurt when you weren't here. I felt...abandoned."

A tear slid down Tim's face. "I'm so sorry, Delilah. I never meant for you to feel that way and I'm sorry you did. Please forgive me?"

"You...don't have to stay if this is too hard, too much. I wouldn’t blame you for walking away."

"Yes, you would. You’d hate me for not being stronger and I’d hate myself.” Tim thought for a moment and then he met her eyes. “I’m not going to lie…This is too hard, and it is too much," he confessed in a quiet voice, and another tear slid down his face. Delilah's eyes dropped to her lap. He reached out and gently laid his hands on her upper arms, "But I'm not going anywhere. You're not alone in this, honey. I'm here to stay as long as you want me to." He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek gently.

Delilah looked back up, surprise in her face. Two tears streamed down her face but after a moment she smiled through them and reached for him. He hugged her close but gently in deference to the lacerations that were still healing. She normally wasn't clingy, but right now, she held onto him for dear life and he let her. He wanted to hold her tighter but doing so would hurt her. Right now, her firm grip on him felt good, felt right. She needed to lean on him right now and he needed her to lean. She sobbed in his shoulder and he cried with her as they grieved together over her paralysis. They tuned out everything else, they hadn’t even heard the doctor step into the room, and then discreetly step back out, giving them a few minutes before he checked back. Several minutes later, Delilah pulled away to reach for a tissue, and she handed him one, too. Then, she hugged him again.

Tim felt better, felt hopeful, and he moved his head slightly to kiss her forehead. He smiled as a thought occurred to him and when she released her grip on him, he had a smirk on his face though he wiped away another errant tear from her cheek. "So...how do you feel about wheelchair races in the hallway?"

Delilah's laughter could be heard just down the hall at the nurse's station.


End file.
